Heat of Battle
by BlackDawnYaoilover
Summary: Alfred's view during a battle in WWII. Surrounded by his dying camrades, he searches for a way to bring the bloody practice to a halt and salvage what is left of his humanity. rated T for description of war scenes


watching this vid on youtube i got inspired to write a random ass war scene. no pairings no point no love just raw writing

if you want to listen to the song it's here http : / / www . youtube .com / watch?v=3Y5KhFwzXzU&feature=related

hope you enjoy and see where i came from. also remember this was written at 2:30 in the morning

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><p>All around him they were falling. They hit the ground slick with mud and crimson with a gastly sound. The bodies of his comrades, his brothers-in-arms, his teammates, his friends. They were all falling as if they had never stood a chance. Frantic, wide eyes shot around the blood-stained battlefield, searching for a way to stop this horrid massacre. One of the mud-splattered, uniformed men fighting beside him was thrown back as a shell hit next to him. In the drenching rain there was no cloud of dust only an explosion of mud and grime. His eyes, wide with the shock of their last sights, stared up unblinkingly into the cloud blanketed sky that loomed fittingly over the land. Filthy hands closed the unseeing orbs and then wiped stinging tears from his own only smearing more dirt and gun powder across his near unrecognisable face. He had to stop this unholy killing.<p>

He stood and shouldered his submachine gun and snatched up another handgun from a dead solider that had fallen not far from his impromptu fox hole. His unit was closest to enemy lines. They had taken an opening during a lull in the shells raining from above to slip up behind a high bank of earth caused by such a shell and by this move his team had barely missed being obliterated by a volley of dozens of shells that had falling onto his previous position moments after they moved out. The high bank allowed them to pop up and pick off individual enemy soliders before dropping back down. They had targeted those that were loading and firing the shells and granades and such. Now all his soliders were dead and he was the only one left standing. Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of men were still fighting around him. Such mindless killing. One side was his, the other the men he was supossed to kill. Bullshit. He would find a way to cease this fucked up was of fixing the world's problems. He'd just have to start with this one battle and he would do it. Or his name wasn't Alfred F. Jones.

Dull blonde hair was plastered against his skull by the pounding rain that made it hard so see, but had no effect on the murder he was being drenched in. Listless, blue eyes scanned the enemy lines in front of him while his mind flew through dozens of ways to get through it. His life no longer mattered, but if he was going to be a statistic then by God he was going to be hell for those bastards to take down. They were going to pay for taking his friend's lives even if they were only under orders as much as he was. He straped the spare hand gun to his leg after checking the magazine. Poor guy hadn't even been able to get off a round. While Hell reined before and aft of him, he stood alone in no-man's-land and began his simple plan. Seeing as he was already coated in mud he was perfectly camouflaged to stalk across the remainder of the middle ground and slip unoticed into enemy lines. Barbed wire cut at his hands and face and his heavy boots sank into the thick mud. He ducked down as a flare of light shot out of a cannon and a shell hit dozens of yards behind him. He army crawled under a fence that had once lined fields for cows and horses. A burned out house stood before the line, he crept around to the front and suddenly he was among more uniformed men, grimly shooting, firing, doing anything they could to live through this day. They were as filthy as he was and he couldn't even make out the swastikas that he knew were sewn onto their sleeves. He would have no trouble with his plan. He quickly screwed his silencer onto his submachine gun and slung it back over his shoulder. He ran through throngs of men and grit his teeth as the continued to fire on his people. No one paid him any attention when he joined a squad that was preparing shells to be loaded into the ever hungry cannon. He stoicly ignored the pain in his chest as he helped to load a shell that he knew would kill at least a few of his people. As the cannon fired he pretended to slip and as he struggled to get up from the thick mud he planted a C4 packet with a slow fuse already lit onto the underside of the blasted metal monstrocity. He finally managed to stand and as the rest of the men busied themselves with maintaing the steady flow of shells to the cannon, he crept away to the next one alone the line and then the next. He repeated the process until his C4 packets ran out. As he continued furthur into the potential deathtrap he had set for himself he heard the first in the line of explosions he had rigged. A grim smile quickly fell as more of the cannons fell and his next task grew closer. Men rushed towards the burning remains of the cannons. Yells echoed along with the clamor of war as the fires denied the pouring heavens and spread to the supply trucks that had been set close to them.

He pushed himself to accept his roll for a moment before he burst into the impromptu meeting house made by a barn that sat next to a still smoking farmhouse. Armed guards aimed their guns at him, but they stopped at his panicked look and german uniform that he had borrowed from a fallen man. With his blonde hair and bright blue eyes he looked even more like the ideal german than they did. The army leaders looked up at his loud entrance. He coughed and began rambling in german. "Fire! Near the supply trucks! We need everyone who can help. We need to put it out before it reaches them and causes an explosion!"

Two of the higher ranked leaders barked out orders to the guards and other not as important people within the barn as he ran back out and around the side of it. He waited as the guards and such ran out to help with the fires he had started. When none remained, he dashed back to the door of the barn. He unshouldered his sub gun and kicked in the door. Before any of the generals could respond he had silently dropped every one to the floor. No adrenaline rushed through his veins, he didn't feel exhuberate, he felt empty. All this because of one fucked up man who wanted to blame everything on one people and rid the world of them for no reason. Behind him the door of the barn burst open again and in poured at least a dozen german soliders. Reaction goverened his hands and body as he twisted around and without a thought began firing into the throng of men. Unfortunately, his sub decided to run out of bullets at that moment. The soliders pushed through the door and began to bring up their weapons. He shot forward as he yanked his ballistic knife from its holster on his leg. He sliced the first one across the neck and twisted as a second tried to smash the butt of his gun against the back of his head. That one he stabbed through the heart. Two more fell to cuts on their chests as he pulled his first hand gun from his leg. He twisted out of reach of a tall redhead and fell behind him to sink his knife deep into his back as he fired three shots around him. One by one and a few two or three at a time they fell to his gun and knife as every noise and destraction fell to the background of his mind. He didn't think he just did. He fought with a cold instensity brought by many wars and many more battles. When all had fellen he caught his breath and returned to his work. He burned the maps and papers they had been looking at and pouring over. He checked over the bodies of even the lowest ranked man to see if they had anything that could be used against his country on them. He straightened up and glanced around the barn once more to see if there was anything to be done before he went on to his next self-induced job. As he turned he felt cold steel press against his temple. He froze and waited. The gun was lifted for a brief moment before it was brought down with near crushing force on the side of his head. As he fell he tried to break his fall with his hands but his uselss sub got in his way and he ended up falling hard onto his side as a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. A rough kick flipped him onto his back and he stared up the muzzle of a handgun to the german holding it.

"I should kill you right this instant for what you've done, but an American will be much more useful to Germany alive, fucking bastard. Though I'm sure they've caught more so you could be pretty expendable." The solider spat at his feet as he spoke in heavily accented english. Blue eyes glared fire down at the american sprawled on the wooden floor below him. Blonde hair fell into his eyes. The grip on a familar handgun's trigger was tightened by a gloved hand. Recongnition flashed across the blonde splayed out on the floor. He hastened to push himself up onto his elbows.

"Deutschland! Nein! Hielt fest!" The words came naturally to his lips. He was still in a german-speaking mindset. The man above him stiffened as his name was spoken. "Ludwig. Don't shoot me!" The handgun held steady for a moment before the arm holding it was lowered a tiny bit. Blonde brows knit themselves together over shocked blue eyes. Then recognition crossed the elder's face as well.

"America? Alfred...what. Why are you here?" His arm dropped completely to his side as confusion reined on his face.

"Roosevelt wanted me to help the troops in a way more fitting for my demeanor." He glanced down before he met Ludwig's eyes again. Determination burned in the sapphire orbs. "I don't want to fight anymore." The german looked taken aback at the bold statment.

"What do you mean, Alfred? The entire world is at war because of my crazy boss. You can't just stop fighting. Or do you want to surrender, is that what you mean?" The other blonde was looking rather flustered at the implications of the younger's words.

"No no no. I'm not here to surrender or stop just for this day. This war was completely avoidable, Ludwig, and you know it just as much as I do." A slightly pained look came over the german's face as he remembered his misgivings about his newest boss. He had ignored them at the time because he had been feeling as if he would waste away and die everyday. The man had promised change and that he had delivered in the very least. He glanced away as the other continued in a softer voice. "I don't want to see my people killed beside me everyday. I don't want to kill your people either. Life shouldn't be thrown away like this over some delusional jackass's fucked up plans for world domination. You are a great country whether you are rich or poor. Some crackpot can't tell you what to do and you know it. Listen, i know the UN didn't do what it was supposed to, but they didn't want to ignite a war that happened anyway."

"I-i'm exhausted...I'm tired of watching my comrades fall to shells and bombs, too. But I just don't know what I can do, Alfred! The entire _world_ is at war. I can't just pull back and say 'oh, sorry my bad, didn't mean to.' For one my boss would never allow it. And if I did just stop fighting then every country would converge on me in an instant. Veneziano would be crushed in no time and Kiku the same." Alfred twitched slightly at the mention of Japan.

"That's why you would have to do it slowly." Alfred said. "Recall your men a few at a time. Draw back in to Berlin. Let us be just out of reach at all times and that will keep fights like this to the bare minimum to none. The least killings would occur and we would be able to get rid of that douche that calls himself a man." The german still looked uncertian.

"I would never be able to have the freedom that I need. Or the money to feed my people...I would be lost again. I can't stop fighting! Dammit!" The nation threw the gun to the ground and fisted his hands in his loose hair. Alfred stood slowly and dropped his sub to the floor as well. Then he went over to the slightly taller country and wrapped his arms around him in a brief hug. When the other had looked up in confusion, he reached up and detangled the gloved hands from the thick gold locks.

"I will help you in any way I can. You are my brother, as a nation, a country, a human, and mostly as my friend. I will help to stop this incessent fighting if you are willing to try and amend the wrongs that your people have been forced to carry." He played idly with the iron cross at the german's throat as he listened to his words. The elder's hands fell once again to his sides and his shoulders seemed to sag. The weight of the world rested on this coincidental meeting. They were still surrounded by dead bodies and shells still exploded outside the stone barn, but they seemed to be in a tiny, unstable, but safe little world of their own. "It will be hard, but continuing this war would be just as hard with the same outcome but more casulties. I don't know about you, but I am sending far too many folded flags and broken husbands home to heartbroken wives. I just want this to stop."

"Da...I will...begin the withdrawl of my men, but I don't want to see mindless killing by Arthur's men or Francis's. I am sorry that you had to be pulled into this. Kiku didn't wish to do such a thing to you and we both tried to change Hirohito's mind, but he wouldn't listen. Es tut mir Leid."

"I will heal, Ludwig. It will be better, no completely, but better. Tell Kiku that I know it wasn't his fault. I will talk with Arthur and Francis as I am sure they do not wish to continue this rediculous war anymore than we do. Ivan will have to be left out. He would never go for such a plan." Alfred's fingers traced around the edges of the cross as he talked. He had always been curious about it.

"That will have to do. I wish you the best in the days ahead, Mein freund." The older blonde leaned down and leaned his forehead against Alfred's for a brief moment before brushing back his bangs and lying a farewell peck on his forehead. The american returned the gesture and a short moment of silence stretched before Alfred turned and walked back out into the chaos to begin the preparations that would ultimately end this damned war.

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><p>holy shit...O.o i wrote this in like three hours...holy shit! i love this one! i actually meant it to be a more battlefighting-centric but it took on a mind of it's own after Ludwig came in. they usually do V.V but i still loved writing it. i think the dialouge is a bit OOC but hell heat of battle middle of war who knows what you'd say. hope you enjoyed reading it and saw where i was coming from :3 R n R pls! they're what keep me fed -3-


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